


Nesting

by hollydermovoi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Other, mentions of rape/ rape culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollydermovoi/pseuds/hollydermovoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel has found his perfect match in Castiel, who unfortunately has no clue what the heck is going on. Also contains Lucifer/Michael/Balthazar tw: mentions of rape</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(this is based off an idea for angelic mating rituals that has been dancing around my head.)  
Castiel was soaring above Wisconsin, gently brushing the ground with his Grace, ignoring the small miracles this invoked. He was looking for Father.  
Now, Castiel was very young, and only a Seraphim, so he’d never met Father face to face, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t recognize Father should he come upon Him. With perseverance he’d succeed.  
Hopefully.  
He frowned. It was worrying, his lack of Faith. He’d never questioned anything before- not until the Winchester’s. Maybe Uriel was right, maybe he did spend too much time with them.  
But even if he spent less time with them, he knew he’d still question the Word. Something was wrong.  
When the first touch came, he didn’t recognize it for what it was. Something ruffled his pinions, tugging them gently. Without much thought, he rolled his wings and brushed it off, and when there was a second tug he pushed it away from him with his Grace.  
The third time there was a tug, there was a different feel to it. More… excited.For a second, just a second, Castiel thought maybe he’d found Him. Deep down, he knew better. So for a third and final time, he shrugged the sensation away, with both Grace and movement.  
One could argue that he should’ve known better. But he’d never been told of the Mating Flight. Everyone had assumed that he’d die on the flight to Hell to retrieve the Righteous Man, and he hadn’t been among the Host since that trip. So he was taken completely by surprise when something slammed onto him, simultaniously binding his Grace and his wings, and he fell, plummeting to the ground. Everything went dark.  
*  
When he regained consciousness, he had someone lying on top of him, pinning him to the soft surface beneath him. Whoever it was was grooming him, running hands through his tainted, tousled feathers, Grace sending sparks of heat running through Castiel’s body. The sensations were overwhelming.  
And Castiel wanted nothing more than for them to stop. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when the grooming stopped, the weight pinning him down let up and the bonds on his wings released. Flustered and ashamed, Castiel fled, flying as fast as he could until he was in the back seat of the Impala, shivering in fear. The Winchester’s, bless them, asked no questions past what was required to ensure he wasn’t hurt. When Sam asked him gently what they could do to help him feel better, he said the first thing that came to his mind.  
He asked them to take him home.  
Which, of course, they couldn’t do. Instead they took him to Robert Singer’s “the closest thing to Heaven outside of a whore’s-” “Dean!”  
He didn’t care.  
All he cared about was that once reinforced with Sigils and Grace, Robert’s safe room was impenetrable to everything except the Archangel’s and Father Himself. Whichever of his Brothers had done this too him, they wouldn’t be able to do it again. He was going to be alright. The Winchester’s would make sure of it.  
*  
It took them weeks to get Castiel out of the Panic Room, and several more to get him out of the house. Even then, he kept silent, trembling almost unnoticeably in the backseat of the Impala, refusing to fly.  
It was scary as fuck.  
Dean had seen this Angel face off every monster that’d ever made Sam and him scream like a little girl without even breaking a sweat. Something had scared him so badly that he voluntarily sat inside a car, something he’d been vehemently against before, day in and day out without protest.  
And whatever it was, if it ever came back, it would have to go through the Winchester’s in order to get near him again.  
*  
He’d found him. The perfect little mate- his little Brother, Castiel. After all of these years, Father had seen fit to gift him with a perfect little Seraphim- big blue eyes, tousled feathers. Adorable.  
He’d admit that at first he’d been simply curious- he’d felt the Grace of an Angel brush his for the first time in centuries and he’d followed it back to the source. After that, he’d watched as Castiel searched for something, brushing Grace against the ground in a polite inquiry, completely focused on his task. It was endearing.  
Though not as endearing as seeing those gorgeous feathers stretch out invitingly. He couldn’t help it- he’d tugged, delighted when Castiel had brushed him off, and the chase had began, culminating in him taking the smaller angel to his nest.  
He’d been really looking forward to the mating.  
Until, of course, Castiel had freaked out. The minute he felt panic in his Brother’s thoughts, he’d let him go. Of course he had, he might be a Trickster, but he respected the right to say no. He’d followed Castiel, watching as Castiel took solace in the comfort of the Righteous Man and one of Azazel’s children.  
The Seraphim was absolutely terrified. And Gabriel had no clue why.


	2. Chapter 2

(OK, I’m too lazy to figure out the correct sequence of events right now…so the story shall just move as my muse takes me)

Because watching Castiel and his human friends wasn’t providing the answer to Gabriel’s question, he swallowed his pride and did something he’d sworn he’d never do again. He went to ask his Father for advice.

Now, most of the Host had no clue where Father was, but Gabriel knew better. He’d helped Father set up life as a human, disguised as a Prophet, and it took a fraction of a thought to find himself at Father’s side. 

Only to find that Lucifer and Michael were already there. He quickly summoned his blade, ready to go down fighting. Father touching his shoulder and commanding him to stand down broke his fighting stance. Reluctantly, he relaxed his stance, though he didn’t sheath his blade. Father’s presence or not, he’d spent too many centuries playing the part of a Trickster to be taken unawares by his Brother’s tricks.

But the tale they had to tell was certainly intriguing.

Apparently, Lucifer had never been in the Cage. He’d been upset because a Seraph he’d been courting had disappeared, something he’d blamed on Michael, because Michael had been courting him as well. Father had put them on a “time out” until they’d come to their senses and realized that the Seraphim hadn’t left because of something they’d done. Or so they hoped. They’d yet to find him.

So the three Archangel’s made a pact- Lucifer and Michael would do their best to find out what was wrong with Gabriel’s courting technique- Gabriel insisted that nothing was wrong with Castiel, how could there be, he was perfect (his Brother’s had rolled their eyes affectionately)- and Gabriel with his connections to Angelic Witness Protection would search for the Seraphim called Balthazar.


	3. Chapter 3

Nesting 3  
(Six months later- Lucifer and Michael are no closer to figuring out what went wrong and Gabriel is no closer to finding Balthazar. As for the Winchester’s…)

It had been six months. Six friggin’ months of quite possibly the most naïve being Dean had ever had the pleasure of meeting following them around, asking weird questions and getting stranger looks in return.

Not that Castiel wasn’t helpful- he was, almost indispensible in fact. But he was almost kidlike in his dependence on them. Which was kinda nice-but not really. On the one hand, it felt damn good to be needed again; on the other hand, this is an Angel of the Lord they were talking about here. And in his opinion, an Angel of the Lord should be much more self-sufficient.

The least he could figure, something had happened to Cas while he was flying. His new aversion to flying, added to an extreme lack of education about anything sexual left Dean with the fear that maybe Cas had been raped, or at least sexually assaulted.

But when he asked, Cas was about as helpful as a pizza cutter against a ghoul- as in, more than useless. Poor guy didn’t even know what rape was, despite having condemned rapists to damnation before. Dean forced himself to walk away from him before he did something he’d regret. Distantly he heard Cas asking what he’d done wrong, and Sam assuring him that he hadn’t.

Damn right he hadn’t. Whoever the fuck was supposed to have told Cas about the facts of life- that was the person who’d done wrong.

Dean ignored the niggling thought that God was at fault here and spent all his energy by making sure his Baby was spotless.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam came to get him as he was scrubbing a stain on the dashboard. “So uh…Cas wants us to take him to San Francisco. He said he has to talk to a guy named Balthazar, but that he understands if we don’t want to take him since he’s…unclean now.” Well. They’d have to deal with that little interesting tidbit as they traveled. And by they, he meant Sam. He would never be drunk enough to deal with an Angel who thought getting raped made him unclean. “Tell Cas we’ll head out in the morning ok?” He stayed out there until he was sure he was fit for company, and then he finally called it quits. As he was heading into the hotel, his phone rang. He answered after a curse at the caller id “Hello?”  
-  
Dean was acting very oddly. And by ‘oddly’ Sam meant that his older brother, after passive aggressively scrubbing the Impala so hard that Sam had feared he’d strip off the paint, had returned to the hotel room and acted as if nothing had ever happened. Which was odd- Sam well remembered Dean’s violent reaction to some guy not taking a no for an answer back when Sam was a teenager, Dean didn’t take rape and molestation lightly. So why was he cleaning his gun and whistling, acting as if it was a normal night? Dean’s closest friend thought that it was possible that he’d gotten raped, and they were heading to San Francisco, a city Dean hated because it was impossible to find a place to park his baby, to talk to an Angel about Angelic protocol when it came to rape and molestation, and Dean was whistling.

Yeah. “Acting oddly”- didn’t really begin to cover it. He was just about to call him out on it when his phone rang. ”Hello?”  
-  
Morning came far too quickly for Castiel’s liking, but the sooner they got to Balthazar, the sooner he would be able to talk this through with an Angel who wouldn’t judge him for his lack of Faith. Balthazar had always seemed unhappy in the Garrison, and Castiel had mourned him when he’d disappeared, yet when he’d reached Earth with Dean’s soul, Balthazar had made his presence known, saying only that if Castiel ever found himself of some Heavenly Guidance away from the Host, he’d be in San Francisco, waiting. Surely his friend would know if Sam’s suspicions were correct. So Castiel made himself comfortable in the back of the Impala, not overly surprised when the Prophet Chuck joined them. After all, Chuck surely had his reasons, reasons Castiel was more than willing to let Chuck keep to himself.  
It was somewhere between Oregon and California that Castiel fell asleep. He didn’t even notice, so preoccupied was he with his worries about the oncoming meeting with Balthazar. But if he had noticed that, he might also have seen the Winchester’s eyes glowing with Grace, and his Father’s hand soothing the lines on his face, but he remained unaware, not emerging from his “deep meditation” until they made it to a town called Stockton, where the Winchester’s declared they would spend the night.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning they headed out again, making it to San Francisco in under the two hours that Dean had said it would take, and as they crossed the Bay Bridge, Chuck finally got around to asking Castiel where they could find Balthazar.  
The answer, quite frankly, surprised him.  
“Bernal Heights?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes.”  
“But Bernal Heights is the least likely place Balthazar would be- I mean Zachariah told me that he’s …promiscuous and that he likes to party. Bernal Heights is pretty quiet- wouldn’t he be in the Haight, or the Castro?” Chuck knew he’d gotten something wrong about Balthazar the second Castiel’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust. “Zachariah-“ snarled Castiel, before visibly forcing himself to a halt. “No offense Charles, but Zachariah is definitely the most likely to lie about Balthazar- about any of the Seraphim really. Balthazar’s not promiscuous; Zachariah definitely knows that, he’s-“ here he cut himself off again, lips pressing tightly together. Finally he started up again. “Balthazar only parties because it’s his way of numbing the pain.”  
“Pain from what, exactly?” asked Sam.  
“That is his story to tell Samuel, not mine. You’re going to want to take the next exit Dean. After that…” With that Castiel flawlessly changed the subject from his brother’s personal life, to how to get to where they were going to meet up with him.  
\--  
The meeting place was…different. A small park, at the bottom of Eugenia St., which quite frankly, looked as seedy as the Motels the Winchesters frequented. It was inhabited by drug addicts who fled the second they saw Castiel’s suit. About half an hour in, a tall man with sandy hair approached them from the top of the hill. The minute Castiel saw him, his entire being brightened, and he stopped slouching (a trait Chuck cursed himself for not noticing before), “Balthazar!” he called, “You came!” “Of course I did Cassy, I did tell you that if you needed me, I’d be there for you.” With that he dragged Castiel into a hug. “Now what seems to be the problem?”


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly, Castiel began his tale. He told his Brother how he'd been flying and something had tugged at his feathers and how someone who’d let him go the second he’d returned to his senses and struggled had dragged him down. Then haltingly, he asked his brother the question he’d been too afraid to ask his friends. “Brother, is it still rape if your attacker causes you to feel a pleasurable sensation?”

*

Michael hadn’t been this filled with rage since Balthazar had refused to choose between Lucifer and himself. Dean Winchester also burned with righteous fury. 

_Gabriel was going to pay._

He’d sworn an oath that he hadn’t hurt the Seraphim, and he’d lied. He’d had no clue that Gabriel could be so cruel.

Wait.

Yes he had.

After all, Gabriel had led him into mourning by faking his own death for centuries.

Was it really too much of a stretch to accuse him of this crime?

*

As Michael burned bright with his fury, Lucifer placed his aside for a moment, and let the analytical mind of Sam Winchester try to process the situation.

Fact: Gabriel had sworn he’d engaged in a mating flight with Castiel; Gabriel was sometimes cruel, but he’d never turn to rape to get a mate, no member of the Host would, for fear that Father would cast them out.

Fact: However, Father hadn’t been present for nearly a millennium and both he and Michael had been too busy sulking to monitor the Seraphim

Fact: Raphael had been the Archangel least concerned with the actions of Seraphim, unless they were wounded, or siring/birthing Nephelim

Fact: Balthazar was far from the only friend that Castiel had. So why were they here to ask him about rape?

Lucifer did not like where this train of thought was leading at _all._

*

He’d felt _Grace_ surge from the Hunters that accompanied Castiel, he was sure of it. No matter. He was tired of running- if they were here to end him, so be it. They’d best wait to end him till after he helped out his youngest brother for the last time, or he’d get very mad indeed. As it was, he had to fight the urge to flee the second they’d reacted to his statement. What Castiel was going through was far more important than whatever members of the Host were occupying the hunter’s bodies.

“To answer your question little brother, yes. It is still rape if the person makes you enjoy it. One cannot control one's physical reaction to stimulation.” Castiel flinched, Grace oozing shame and pain. “However,” and here Castiel’s eyes brightened with a dull hope. “It doesn’t sound like you were raped, it sounds like someone was trying to mate with you, though seeing as you apparently had no idea what was going on, there's still the issue of whether you were willing or not.” “But Zachariah says I’m unmatable!” came the protest. “Zachariah has been systematically ruining the lives of Seraphim since the Archangels left. After what he did to me, are you _really_ surprised that he would lie to you about this?” Ignoring the hunters who surged towards him, he continued on. “ _I_ am **not** lying. Now please Brother- let me see your wings. I’ll be able to tell who tried to mate you from the marks.”

But the second he saw Castiel’s wings he found himself forced to reconsider his assessment.


	7. Chapter 7

Not wanting to voice his concerns immediately, he started grooming Castiel's wings, taking great care to leave the Grace marks undisturbed. "How long have you had these?" he asked gently, watching as the feathers brushed themselves out, fascinated by how the Grace marks moved with them. Oddly, they didn't seem faked, though he knew that the Archangel whom the grace belonged to was dead. It was one of Castiel's human (possibly angel, but he was more than happy enough to feign ignorance as it was working so far) who answered, the tall, floppy haired one.

"He landed in our hotel about six months ago, terrified out of his mind. It wasn't until about a week ago that any discussion of rape took place-"

"And frankly," said gorgeous eyes "I'm a bit curious as to why we'd come here to talk to an angel who by all accounts is a partier about rape in the first place."

Ah, there it was, he'd been wondering when that particular question would come up. He took a deep breath and steeled himself against their judgemental gazes, sending a sardonic smirk towards the humans as his fingers tightened against Castiel's feathers, leading his little brother to squeak indignantly. He murmured an apology, and felt Castiel's Grace brush his in an attempt to comfort. " He stared fixedly at the feathers and whispered the truth he'd been carrying for far too long unsaid.

"Because I've been raped before."

And everything exploded.


End file.
